


(Lied About Being) The Outdoor Type

by kat_fanfic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Between Seasons 2 & 3, Camping, First Kiss, M/M, Pack Bonding, relationship troubles, teenagers being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Camping,” Stiles repeated slowly. “Like, outside? In tents?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Lied About Being) The Outdoor Type

**Author's Note:**

> Little something I had to get off my chest before tonight's episode will probably break my heart.  
> Also, what exactly is it with Scissac taking over my Sterek fics? o_O

“Um, what?” Stiles stared at Scott, hoping against hope that he’d developed some sort of hearing disorder. If he did, he mused idly, it was probably hysteria induced. 

“We,” Scott grinned, gesturing between them, “are going camping.”

No hearing disorder then. 

“Camping,” Stiles repeated slowly. “Like, outside? In tents?”

“Yup,” Scott confirmed brightly. “Tents, sleeping bags, campfire – the whole shebang. Isaac’s even bringing his guitar.”

“Isaac,” Stiles repeated again, stomach sinking. 

“Yup,” Scott repeated as he settled back into his chair and shoved a couple of fries in his mouth. Stiles looked around the cafeteria desperately, hoping against hope that something would come up to save him from actually having this conversation. Harris in a dress, fairies riding unicorns, anything really, he wasn’t picky. 

But alas, no supernatural intervention came to save him. “Thanks for nothing,” he muttered, shoving a hand through his longer hair. He’d been growing it out, mostly because it had become a hassle to fit in visits to the barber into his busy, werewolf-infested schedule. 

He refused, even to himself, to acknowledge the possibility that his sudden decision to change the haircut he’d preferred most of his life could have something to do with the way Derek’s eyes had lingered on the picture of him that hung in their hallway from when he’d been eight and had let his hair grow out for Halloween.

“But what if something’s on TV that’s never shown again?”

Scott stared at him, disbelief plain on his face. “Are you serious?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s a song quote. Never mind, you heathen.” He sighed heavily. “So let me get this straight--”

Scott pulled a grimace. “Funny, Stiles.”

Doing a double take, Stiles flailed. “That wasn’t even meant as a pun, so don’t go all huffy on me now, dude. And don’t try to change the subject!”

“Which is…?” Scott hedged, clearly uncomfortable.

Stiles let out a frustrated yell and whacked Scot upside the head. “That you’re a dumbass, Scott. Are you literally insane? I am NOT going to traipse around the woods at night when there’s a freaking Alpha pack on the loose and out to kill us! JFC, Scott, I thought you were going to try better this year!”

Looking affronted, Scott rubbed the back of his head as if the slap had actually smarted. “That’s so not fair! It wasn’t even my idea!”

“I kindly ask you to stop hitting my boyfriend, Stiles.” Isaac plopped down onto the seat next to Scott and gave him a quick peck on the mouth. “I kind of like him the way he is.”

Stiles watched as Scott practically melted. He gave Isaac a soft smile and slipped an arm around his shoulders to pull him close. “Hey,” he murmured, kissing him again with a little more intent. “I missed you.”

Isaac snorted as he settled against him. “Yeah, right,” he said, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks.

Stiles gagged. “Ugh, you guys. No happy couple stuff around the perpetual bachelor, remember?”

Isaac grinned. “You’re sixteen, Stiles. That hardly makes you a lost cause.”

“Says the practically married guy.”

Scott huffed at that, pulling back from Isaac so that he could grab a few more fries. “We are _not_ married, Stiles. You need to stop reading these books. They’re total bullshit. Imprinting, my ass.”

Isaac shifted in his seat. “Derek says it actually does happen sometimes. Not,” he grimaced, “not creepy like with Jacob and Renesmee. It’s just that sometimes, when two werewolves get together, they develop a connection, sort of like a bond. He told me that it happened to his parents.”

Stiles filed that little tidbit of information away in his ‘Things I know about Derek Hale’ compartment, along with ‘emotionally stunted’, ‘has eyebrows of doom’ and ‘killer abs’. “You do realize that I only read those books to torture you guys with them, right?”

Isaac sent him a quick smile, but Scott ignored him, opting to stare down at his plate with a frown. “I’m not sure what you want to hear from me, Isaac. Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know,“ Isaac spread his hands helplessly, looking as confused as Stiles felt. “It just popped into my head? Look, I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott murmured, even though it obviously was not. “I have to go, class is about to start. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” He brushed a soft hand through Isaac’s wild curls and was gone.

“What the hell,” Stiles said. 

Isaac looked after his boyfriend with a pained expression. “He’s been stressed, ever since school started.”

“Any idea why?” Stiles knew perfectly well why Scott was ‘stressed’ and the reason came in the shape and form of one Allison Argent, recently returned form her summer-long vacation to Europe.

Isaac gave him a grim smile. “See you tonight, Stiles. Don’t be late.”

Which neatly brought them back to the initial subject. “Yeah, about that--”

“Don’t even try to weasel out of this, Derek won’t go for it. He even threatened to put us all over his shoulder and carry us there.”

Stiles gulped, instantly turned on by the image. Hm, caveman!Derek…

Looking at him funny, Isaac stole the last of his fries. “Dress warmly, it’s cold up there. Oh, and don’t bother with a tent, we got it covered.” 

Which was good, because Stiles didn’t even _own_ one. Imagining the epic laughing fit his Dad would throw when he told him where he was going for the weekend, Stiles let out a sigh. 

At least he’d get to spend some time with Scott. Yippee. 

 

* * 

“So we’re actually doing this,” Stiles said that night, when Scott appeared on his doorstep laden with various bags, a tent and something that looked suspiciously like a bath towel. 

“Yeah, isn’t it great? It’s been ages since we roughed it like this.”

Stiles stared, not bothering to point out that the only camping trip they’d ever been on had been in Scott’s backyard. “I didn’t know we were going to the lake,” he said instead.

“Derek knows a spot, near Pine Creek,” Scott answered blithely, throwing everything into Stiles’ truck with a sigh of relief. 

All thoughts stuttered to a halt. Derek. A lake. Possible nakedness. Uh-oh. “What? No way! That’s too far up the mountains. Do you even know all the things that creep and fly up there?”

Scott looked at him blankly. “Um. My mom gave me bug spray?”

Desperate now, imagining all kinds of scenarios where he died a horrible death for daring to pop a boner, Stiles frantic mind finally came up with something that would save him the indignity of death by Alpha. “I didn’t even pack my bathing suit!”

Never mind that they were still standing in front of his house. 

Scott grinned. “Neither did I.”

Stiles groaned. He was so screwed.

 

* *

 

The road ended in the middle of nowhere. Stiles shot Scott a questioning glance, but his best friend was studiously ignoring him.

Ahead of them, Derek parked his Camaro and began to unload all kinds of gear from the trunk.

Stiles watched him disbelievingly. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“We’ll go the rest of the way on foot,” Derek called over to them, leaning against his car and looking like a freaking A&F model in his simple wifebeater and worn jeans. The fucker. “Everybody grab some of this and get a move on. I want to get there before nightfall.”

“Nightfall?” Stiles repeated, horrified. “It’s barely four pm!”

Oh yeah, he balefully thought a while later as he tried to keep up with the werewolves that pretended to be his friends – and Derek, who at least was supposed to be his ally - this was going to be a lot of fun.

 

* * 

 

“ _This_ is where we’re staying?” Stiles panted and looked around the tiny clearing doubtfully. “It’s kind of rocky, don’t you think?”

The look Isaac gave him was scathing. “Derek’s Dad showed him this place when he was a kid.”

Shit. “Uh, it’s awesome, though. I bet it’s not even going to be a lot of work to clear away the debris.”

This time, Scott whacked _him_ upside the head.

 

* *

 

“Wait. Why are there only two tents?”

“Um,” Isaac said, clearly confused by his tone. “Because there’s only four of us here?”

“Great,” Stiles moaned. “Now I have to listen to Scott’s snoring all night.”

“I don’t snore!” Scott yelled from inside the nearest tent.

Isaac and Stiles looked at each other. “He does though,” Stiles mouthed and Isaac grinned.

“Yeah, see,” Scott said, emerging out of the flaps with a victorious grin and a flashlight. His hair was in wild disarray and he looked like a complete tool in his utility vest and the plaid shirt he’d unburied from somewhere. “We were thinking that maybe, uh, that Isaac and me could, you know…” He trailed off, making an awkward hand-gesture that apparently was supposed to mean: abandon you so that we can make out like bunnies behind walls made out of cloth. 

“Oh,” Stiles gasped as the implications of this hit him. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I am _not_ sharing a tent with Derek! No way, guys! He’ll probably kill me in my sleep for breathing wrong or something!”

“If you snore, I will,” Derek said from directly behind him.

Stiles meeped and whirled around. “I don’t snore,” he said automatically. 

“Yeah,” Derek shot Scott a telling glance. “That’s what everyone says.”

Strangely enough, it was Isaac that blushed.

 

* *

 

They did build a campfire later on, and Derek waved away Stiles’ concerns about bushfires. “That’s what all the rocks are for,” he said quietly. “My Dad was big on safety, showed me a lot of stuff on our trips out here.”

Stiles watched the small twigs catch fire first, watched them lick at the bigger pieces of wood and wondered at the way Derek still poked at it, rearranging glowing branches until Stiles grabbed his arm and forcibly pulled it back.

There were blisters on Derek’s hand, his skin an ugly red, burst open in some places. It didn’t heal right away, wounds closing sluggishly in a way that Stiles had only ever seen in combination with wolfsbane. 

Eventually, though, the burns faded. Stiles stroked a finger over the freshly healed skin, marveling at the smoothness of it, any body hair that might have been there burned off. 

Derek shivered under his touch, eyes averted and jaw clenched tight.

Stiles swallowed, the click sounding loud in the silence of the night. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, hoping that Derek would somehow understand, would know what it was he was trying to say when he didn’t even know himself.

For a long time, there was no reaction. Realizing that he was still holding on to Derek’s arm like an idiot, he made a move to pull back. Instead, his hand was gently turned and Derek slipped his fingers in between his, holding tight.

When Scott and Isaac returned from their foray into the woods to get more firewood, they were still sitting side by side, their joined hands hidden by the shadows the flickering flames cast between them. 

 

* *

 

They made S’mores, and it was Derek that pulled the crackers, marshmallows and chocolate out of one of his bags. Isaac beamed at his Alpha and presented each of them with a stick for marshmallow roasting.

For the rest of the night, Stiles couldn’t look at Derek for fear of giving in to the urge to lick away the little smear of chocolate on his chin.

 

* *

There was no nakedness. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

* *

 

“… I don’t care what she said about me! Why did you even talk to her, didn’t you, like, swear an oath not to?”

“I did not swear an oath. Jesus, Isaac, I just gave her the book she forgot in class. It’s not like I was trying to get in her pants, you know.”

“Could have fooled me!”

Stiles groaned, raising the volume of his iPod. He still could hear every word from the other tent and judging by Derek’s rigid body, so could he, despite the pillow he’d shoved over his face.

“Really? You _still_ think I want her back? After everything she’s done, after what she’s done to you in particular?” 

Stiles nodded. Of course he thought Scott still wanted Allison back.

Apparently, so did Isaac. “Of course you do! Don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with her if she gave you even the slightest hint that she’d take you back.”

There was a lengthy pause. Say something, Stiles prayed silently.

“That’s what I thought.”

Stiles clenched his hands into fist at the suppressed tears in Isaac’s voice. He could hear the rustling of a sleeping bag and the sharp sounds of a zipper and then the tent-flap being pulled back. Next to him, Stiles could feel Derek tense, a sharp inhale the only warning he got before the Alpha began to sit up.

“Hold on, Derek,” Stiles breathed, reaching over to press Derek back onto his sleeping mat. “Give them a minute.”

To his eternal surprise, Derek complied. His eyes flashed in the complete darkness, but he made no move to shrug off Stiles’ touch.

Stiles held his breath, willing Scott to not be an idiot for once.

“Isaac, wait.”

Stiles dared to breathe again. Under his hand, Derek was tense, obviously still ready to intervene on his beta’s behalf. It was almost cute, in a disturbing fatherly kind of way.

“Why?” Isaac was saying, quieter now but still loud enough to easily be heard across the clearing. “So that you can make good with me, have a little something on the side before you crawl back to Allison? Your ‘one true love’?” 

“She isn’t my one true love, Isaac, and I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” There was so much pain in Scott’s voice that Stiles felt his heart clench. This was Scott being desperately in love and trying to prove it. “She was my first one though, and yes, she’s still important to me. Important enough that I’ll want to make sure that she’s all right, maybe call her every once in a while to see how she’s doing. But, that doesn’t mean that I…”

His voice broke and Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek’s shirt, torn between anticipation and the fear that Scott still would find a way to fuck things up. 

“That doesn’t mean that I love you any less, puppy.”

Stiles almost bit through his tongue to keep in the whoop of joy. He bumped his fist onto Derek’s chest a couple of times, shirt and all, before he plopped back on his sleeping mat. 

Grinning at nothing in particular, Stiles huffed out a soft laugh. “Puppy,” he breathed. “Did you know about this, Derek…?“ 

He trailed off, suddenly aware of Derek looming over him. It was too dark to make out the expression on his face, but then, he didn’t really have to. The lips on his own told Stiles everything he needed to know.

They didn’t do anything that night, even when the sounds from the other tent had them curl into each other in an attempt to drown them out. “Eighteen,” Derek whispered against the soft skin behind Stiles’ ear, prompting him to shiver. 

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered back. “But since I’m, y’know, _almost_ eighteen, how about a little sexiness now, to tide me over?”

His squeak was loud enough to be heard on the other side of the clearing. Ironically, that _did_ shut up Scott and Isaac. 

 

* * 

 

“You planned this, right?”

Derek looked up from the tent he was disassembling. “To do all the work while you stand around and make comments? Sure didn’t.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “This,” he pressed, gesturing towards the other side of the clearing, where Scott and Isaac were rolling around in the grass like, well, puppies. “It was all a ploy to get them together, wasn’t it? Like, properly together, I mean.”

“I’m not _that_ kind of Alpha,” Derek answered with a grimace.

“I think you are, Derek. I really think you’re exactly that kind of Alpha.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growled and shoved one of the backpacks at him as he shouldered another. He did turn away fast, but not fast enough for Stiles not to see the slight flush staining his cheeks.

That kind of Alpha indeed.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Stiles said with a grin. “Maybe I am the outdoor type after all.”

There were no immediate protests. Stiles counted that as a win.


End file.
